


A note

by Spirk_and_Stucky_trash



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hurt John Watson, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, POV John Watson, Post-Reichenbach, Reichenbach Falls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 19:03:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13724055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spirk_and_Stucky_trash/pseuds/Spirk_and_Stucky_trash





	A note

He haven’t slept for something that seems like ages. Dark circles under his eyes were getting bigger with every day and his skin was more pale than ever. And it was only three weeks ago - three weeks since he watched blood running out of Sherlock’s body.

_Sherlock, are you okay?_

He closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to remember. He doesn’t want to remember those words and voice that said them. He knows the number of times he played this dialogue in his head could be considered masochistic.

_Turn around and walk back the way you came._

He’s playing with his fingers constantly straightening and clenching them.

_No, I’m coming in._

He should have done it. He should have come in. Maybe then he would be able to stopped him.

_Just. Do as I ask. Please._

Please. Please. Please. One word could change his mind. How could he do something in spite of Sherlock? He always has right, so how he wasn’t going to listen to him?

_Where?_

He remembers every second of that moment. Every step, every breath. He was able to hear blood running through his veins and sound of his heart pumping it in alarming rate.

_Sherlock._

He needed to know he was safe, but he couldn’t find him. There were so many people around him, but none of them had incredible dark, curly hair or those cheekbones. None of them was Sherlock.

_Okay, look up. I’m on the rooftop._

I’m on the rooftop. No matter how many times he would hear those four words he still has hope it’s one of those stupid Sherlock’s experiment. For example, how ruin his partner’s life in the most painful way possible.

_Oh god._

It hurts. It hurts indescribably. Especially because he knows what he gonna hear in just few seconds.

_I— I— I can’t come down, so we’ll just have to do it like this._

Just come down. We can do it. We can find solution for everything, just come down. Come down to me. For me.

_What’s going on?_

He tightens the eyelids even harder.

_An apology. It’s all true._

It’s not. I know it’s not true. I always knew, even if I had moments of hesitation - deep, deep down I always knew. What? He wants to cry. He feels the need to cry, but he can’t. Tears stopped flowing weeks ago.

_Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty. We both know it’s not true. You would never invented him. You would never let anyone kill all those people._

Why are you saying this? Why are you doing this to me? Why are you hurting me like that?

_I’m a fake._

No, you’re not. You pretend a lot, but you’re not fake.

_Sherlock—_

Why are you doing this to me? Why are you lying?

_The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson and Molly. In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you. That I created Moriarty for my own purposes._

I would never do that. I would never let anyone thinks like that’s could be the truth.

_Okay, shut up, Sherlock. Shut up. The first time we met—the first time we met—you knew all about my sister, right?_

You’ve known more me than anyone.

_Nobody could be that clever._

But you’re not nobody. You could. You’re Sherlock Holmes. You’re my best friend. I know you. And I know you are that clever.

_I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. It’s a trick. It’s just a magic trick._

No, you didn’t. You knew about Afghanistan, you knew I was an army doctor.

No. Alright, stop it now. Please stop it.

Just stop it and come down to me, so we can go back to Baker Street.

_No, stay exactly where you are. Don’t move._

How could I move, if I can’t do it even now?

_Alright. Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me?_

Do what?

_This phone call, it’s… it’s my note. That’s what people do, don’t they? Leave a note._

No. Just no.

_Leave a note when?_

Tears flowing on cheeks. Fingers clenched on the plastic box.

_Goodbye, John._

_Goodbye, John._

_Goodbye, John._

He screamed like never before. He wasn’t used to it, but normally he didn’t have reasons. But now, the only person that was holding him in line, his best friend, his personal high-function sociopath, Sherlock Holmes was dead, and he couldn’t do anything about that, no matter how hard he would try.

 

So he decided there is no need to try anymore.

 


End file.
